


Blossomgale

by Frozenleaf



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: F/M, more friendship than actual shipping, post-game fluff, relationship exploration?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26869591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frozenleaf/pseuds/Frozenleaf
Summary: Watching the blossomgales are important to Sophie. She doesn't expect Lambda, cold and inhuman as he is, to know that, too.
Relationships: Lambda & Sophie (Tales of Graces), Lambda/Sophie (Tales of Graces)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Blossomgale

Sophie's sleep is easy. Her blankets are warm. The pillow is soft, the mattress firm under her body. Her dreams shroud her in a comforting reverie. And under the filtered motes of light under a giant tree, she's surrounded by bright laughter and the feeling of home.

It's interrupted by a light touch on her shoulder. A soft echo, whispered in the dark.

"Sophie."

Her name, except spoken in an unfamiliar voice. The dissonance stirs her from sleep. Wakefulness bleeds into confusion, and the haze of her dream dissipates into the dark night. Cold, red eyes peer down at her, and Sophie sighs.

She's used to seeing his humanoid form now, used to living under the same roof. But she never quite knows what thoughts goes on behind his still face, those glassy red eyes.

"What are you doing here, Lambda?"

His face is as stern and unmoving as stone. If her gentle rebuke prompts any remorse, Lambda doesn't show it. His humanoid features are young, but she's never so much as seen a smile or a frown upon his calm, unmoving features. Never manages to prompt so much as a laugh from his lips, no matter how much she tries. He's painfully inhuman, painfully out of place in her world and her dreams.

Even if she wishes that one day, he'd fit.

Not tonight, though. A small flicker of irritation blossoms at his unwelcome presence in her room, and she would chase him out right now, had he not called her by her actual name.

He only ever uses it when they're alone, or when there's something dire. Yet in the calm night, she senses nothing out of place, nothing that could prompt Lambda to wake her from her sleep.

His hand rests lightly on her shoulder. It doesn't move as the seconds tick past. Sophie frowns, ready to speak.

Then, he whispers, "Blossomgale."

Her eyes widen. A tingle runs down her spine, her original reservations swallowed by eager anticipation. Glancing out of her bedside window, she can see the garden- _her_ garden- below. Numerous flowers that have grown under her care, their faces pointed towards the deep velvet sky. She's watched them grow from little seeds in the dirt, and now they shimmer with a familiar radiance that shoots exhilaration through her.

She wastes no time, smile pulling at her cheeks. "Come on, then." She tosses her covers aside, grabs Lambda's hand. He doesn't protest when she tugs him out of her room, down the stairs, out into the garden below.

The town is quiet, so quiet that if she closes her eyes she swears she could hear the stars twinkling up above. But what catches her attention are the flowers in the garden- her flowers- swaying gently in the night breeze. Their petals glow with the pulsating eleth, bulbs of light that look ready to bloom.

Sophie can barely catch her breath, taking in the sight. The garden glows with a soft light, and she can sense the flowers' anticipation, their desire to live and fly free to the ends of the world. Holds her breath as, one by one, they do.

It starts slow. At first one bloom, then another. Bursts of light spark throughout her garden, fragile flowers dissipating into brilliant motes of light. They're tossed by the gentle breeze, dancing around her in a haphazard whirlwind, tussling her hair and catching her laughter, before rising towards the sky and into the stars.

"It's beautiful," she whispers. Joy blooms in her chest, and she wants to dance, to revel in the beauty of her sopherias in a final farewell.

"It is."

She remembers she's not alone, that there's someone standing beside her. Whose hand hasn't moved from when she grabbed it before.

And though he hasn't moved, hasn't so much as breathed, Lambda's eyes are fixed on her, his voice softly gentle.

His hand fits loosely in hers, neither grasping her back or pulling away. He looks still and lifeless among the blossomgale, painfully out of place in their dancing lights.

But in the faint, uneven light, the cold sharpness of his eyes seem softer, his features warmer. His lips almost turning into the barest approximation of a smile. His voice betrays a soft sadness that tugs at her heart.

And even though he's painfully inhuman, she wishes he could laugh and smile with her amongst the flickering lights. Wishes that, one day, he will.

She breathes and turns to face him, never letting go of his hand. Studies every feature of his face, lit by the blossomgale. Wonders what it'd be like, to see him smile.

She whispers, "Thank you, Lambda."

He blinks, and there's the scarcest tilt of his head.

"Does it make you happy, Sophie?"

She squeezes his hand. "It does."

He breathes. "Then I am glad."

She stands with him, hand in hand, watching as the flowers shimmer and the lights spin around them, the eleth singing through the night in a song only they can hear.

And when his fingers clasp gently over her own, Sophie says nothing more.

**Author's Note:**

> writing soda is how i cope... ;w; Thank you for reading this! It's been two months since I've really had any motivation to write so... this is my first slow attempt to ease myself back into writing ahaha


End file.
